


King of All Hallow's Eve

by officialoperaghost



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Phantom - Susan Kay
Genre: Child Abuse, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 22:51:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8227456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/officialoperaghost/pseuds/officialoperaghost
Summary: What if young Erik travelled to a place where no one knew him and celebrated Halloween with children of his own age who thought his face was simply a Halloween trick?





	

When Etienne had initially proposed the visit to England, Madeleine had been overjoyed. At any given moment she wished to be out and far away from the house she was trapped in, and in turn far away from the little creature that skulked in the attic. It meant a weekend away where she could pretend she was normal again, back to being treated as a lady should without worrying about whispers or comments in the streets. And, of course, it meant a weekend with Etienne, being romanced and cared for like she hadn’t been since Charles died. 

The bags were packed. The date was set. The clock was ticking. It almost went without a hitch.

Almost.

“Forgive me, Madeleine. I cannot watch over Erik for you this weekend.” 

In two sentences, Marie had dashed the little bit of joy Madeleine had. 

“Why ever not?”

“I will be… busy.” She wrung her handkerchief between her hands. 

“Busy doing what, Marie?” She sighed irritably. 

“Running errands, seeing to this and that.” She replied airily. Madeleine turned to regard her but she was not looking at her; instead, Marie seemed intently fixated on the fabric she twisted nervously in her fingers.

“Perhaps you mean that he is such a disobedient little wretch you cannot control him. And the thought of you being alone with him for a weekend makes you quite ill.” She slammed the lid of her suitcase with such force Marie jumped in alarm. “I’m aware of his impertinence, Marie. A firm word and a strong hand and you will have no problems.”

“Oh, no, Madeleine! Erik is a little angel whenever I watch over him. He hardly makes a peep and simply sits alone doing his reading.” She garbled quickly, a little unnerved that she had managed to see through her lie so easily. “I am truly occupied this weekend, that’s all.”

“I see.” Madeleine fixed the latches on the case and set it onto the floor beside the bed. “Then I shall leave him here.”

Marie gawped at her, the handkerchief twisted tightly in her doughy palms.

“You cannot be serious, Madeleine!”

“Why ever not? He is old enough to look after himself. All he needs is in his room. If I lock him in I’ll have no need to worry about him.” She neglected to voice that her true worry was not for the safety of the child, but of the child getting out.

“Is that not cruel?”

“He knows no other way.” She replied quietly.

Marie passed the handkerchief over her lips and regarded the other woman silently. Other than the dim lights of the sconces there was only the light from the fire to illuminate her silhouette; dark shadows drew her features into long, pointed extensions of her face and hid any expression she may have had.   
“I… will see if I have time to visit him. See if he is well and if he requires anything.” Marie said after a long moment. She thought glumly of the weekend to come and the inevitable chaos Erik would wreak while she was there. 

 

However, it turned out there would be no stress for Marie. After hearing of the predicament, Etienne was eager to encourage Madeleine to bring the child with them. She had complained, and sulked, and rowed but he stood firm, refusing to allow her to abandon her child in another country without proper supervision.   
Ideally, he had wanted to begin some sort of relationship with the boy in the hopes of revealing the medical malady Madeleine had so fleetingly discussed, but it seemed Erik was not one for relationships. He did not speak a word on the ship over to England, though Etienne suspected it was partly due to most of his face being obscured with the various scarves Madeleine forced the child to wear. Along with a hat, the mask was barely visible save for a slit across the bridge of the nose. Aside from the flashing of gold in the pits of the eyeholes, the boy barely moved.

Erik was rather positive it was all a trick. When he had been told of the upcoming journey he had largely ignored his Mama and continued to draw, but true to her word she went to fetch him the following afternoon and made him pack some clothes into a bag. 

England. He had read about England. A place of people who spoke a different language and had different ways of doing things. A place with different architecture to what he had been able to glimpse back home. He was eager to see what kind of buildings he could find. He hoped they had good masonry technique in England.  
When he saw the ship that would take them over to England, he was even more impressed. He wanted to go and ask the captain all the questions that were burning in his brain, but Mama had told him if he dared move an inch she would send him straight back to the house and lock him up. Being out, even though he was compressed by layers upon layers of fabric over his face, was liberating. When they sat down he ensured he would be beside a porthole so he could watch the sea. He had never seen it before. The Doctor that was always with his Mama had tried to tell him about The Channel and how the ship knew where to go, but Erik already knew. He had read about it. The Doctor thought he was stupid. He didn’t like that thought, but Mama had told him if he spoke she would hit him to make him be quiet. He had to be quiet, and still, so he could see England.

The house they went to stay in was much like their house back in France, but there was no attic. There was a room for Mama, and a room for him, on the same floor. There was a bathroom and a kitchen and a seating area. He noticed there was a lock on the outside of his door, which he had expected but couldn’t help feeling upset by. He ran his finger over the metal until Mama slapped his hand and made him go into the room.

From his window he could see the street. He peered out excitedly but everything was the same. He saw no Gothic arches, nor perpendicular Gothic, no Tudor lattice. The trees were like the trees in France. The streets were stone like France. He longed to go out and see if he could identify what kind of stone had been used but it had been a long time since he heard the lock twist. He took out his sketchbook and drew what he could see from his window - some houses, the street, the trees. When he was done he turned the page and drew it again, this time how he had hoped it would be. He drew until it grew dark and the street lamps switched on. He glanced up - and froze.

There, on the street, was a little boy with a mask.

He jumped to his feet, the sketchbook clattering to the floor. His hand went to his own mask as he studied the other boy. His breathing was rapid. The boy gestured at the darkness - and another little boy with a mask joined him.

Erik couldn’t believe it. He had never seen anyone wearing a mask like Mama forced him to. He went right up the window, the fabric of his own mask pressing against the window pane, the glass fogging with his breath. 

He had to know. He had to know why they wore masks. Why did he wear a mask? Maybe the other boys had the answer. He had the lock on the window open in seconds and with relative ease he scrambled down the house and into the street.

He stood in the darkness for a while, heart hammering in his chest as he watched the two boys. They had sacks. One took off his mask and wiped his brow with his sleeve and Erik saw he had weird markings all over his face. Erik wondered if he had weird markings too. 

The other boy dug into his sack and pulled out a turnip. He showed it to the other boy and Erik saw it had a face on it. 

He had never seen such a thing. He crept closer to look.

“Bloody vicar chasing us away.” One of the boys grumbled. “D’ya think he knew we were gonna steal the clapper from the bell?”

“We did it last year.” The other shrugged. “Maybe he did.”

His curiosity was too much. In a moment he had materialised behind the boys.

“What are you doing?” He asked, quietly.

The boys jumped and reeled around.

“And who are you?”

He shrugged and waited.

“We’re gonna light our turnips.” One boy replied, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What’s it to you?”

“Why are you doing that?”

“Are you slow? It’s All Hallow’s Eve!” 

Erik shook his head slowly.

“You light turnips on All Hallow’s Eve?” He asked. 

“Sure do. Why’s your voice weird?”

He blinked.

“I’m from France.” 

They seemed to like that. They grinned.

“What’s your name, pal?”

“Erik.” 

“I’m William. This is Henry.” 

“Enchanté.” 

The boys looked blank so he moved on quickly.

“I assume All Hallow’s Eve is an English thing.”

“Don’t you have it in France?”

He shook his head.

“Well, shoot. We just figured ‘cause you’re wearing a mask you knew.”

He rose his hand to his face self-consciously.

“We wear masks tonight. It confuses the spirits.” William explained.

“Tonight is the only night that the spirits can walk the streets.” Henry pulled some matches out of his pocket and attempted to strike one. 

“Spirits.” Erik parroted. He didn’t really believe in ghosts and such, but he was happy to pretend if he could talk to other boys his age. He watched Henry work his way through a few matches before he flicked his hand and produced a flame on his finger as if by magic. The boys whooped in surprise and clamoured to know how he did it, but Erik said nothing, smiling under the mask. He lit the candles in each of the boys’ turnips and noted how the little carved faces became illuminated in the darkness. 

“What else do you do?” He queried. The boys grinned at each other.

“You knock on people’s doors. When they answer, they have to give you a treat, or else you play a trick on them!” Henry looked down at Erik’s hands. “You gonna help us out with your fire stuff if people don’t give us anything?”

“I’ll refrain from any arson, but I’ll see what I can do.” 

And so the night began. Erik shadowed the two boys as they knocked on door after door (after he quickly shepherded them away from the house where Mama and the Doctor were staying). If the person did not put anything into Henry or William’s outstretched sacks they shoved Erik forward to perform a trick that seemed ridiculously simple to him but always shocked the adult at the door. Each time he did, the boys would clap him on the shoulder and thank him, and his heart would soar a little more. 

They looped through many streets but eventually ended back at the street lamp they had started at. The sacks were bulging with goodies. They sat down on the kerb, Erik in between the two, as they picked through their spoils. Henry pulled off his mask and Henry followed suit. 

“What’s on your face?” Erik asked, eyeing the black smudges.

“Soot. It’s to make you look scary.” Henry growled, retrieving an apple from his sack and biting into it with relish.

Erik nodded slowly.

“The scarier you look, the better. It keeps the bad spirits away.” William added. Then he squinted at Erik. “What have you got under your mask?”  
His blood ran cold. He pressed his hand to his cloth cheek and swallowed hard.

“I’m… I’m not supposed to take it off.” He muttered.

“Why?” Henry asked around a mouthful of fruit.

“Mama said so.”

“Your mama said so?” Henry jeered. “You always do what your mama say, then? Are you a mama’s boy?”

Erik stiffened.

“Most certainly not.”

“Then take it off!” 

“I…” His eyes darted to the house. “She would be terribly angry if she found out…”

“She won’t find out! We won’t tell!” Henry urged.

“We don’t even know who she is. How could we tell her?” William pointed out.

“Go on, Erik.” 

He glanced from one boy, to the other. This was the first - and only - time he had ever interacted with boys his age without being ruthlessly mocked or attacked. The boys actually seemed to like him. His heart swelled at the thought and he hesitantly raised his hands to the ties.

When the mask fell away, the boys stared at him. He kept his eyes fixed on the fabric mask that was now in his hands. Any time he had shown his face to anyone else, they had reacted in the same way. Revulsion. Disgust. Horror. The two boys said nothing. They simply stared.

“Woah.”

“How… how did you do that?” William whispered.

“What?” Erik muttered.

“That’s so cool. It looks so… cool.” Henry grinned. 

“I wish I could do something like that.” William whined. “Erik, you’re like, the best at All Hallow’s Eve.” 

“Will you be back here next year, too?” Henry asked insistently.

He shook his head.

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh, shoot. You’re the best at getting treats, too.” Henry squinted at his face and smiled again.

“You look really good. I’m jealous. Can you believe a kid who’s never done this before is doing it so much better than us?” 

Erik’s deformed lips twisted into a little smile.

“Thank you.” 

He looked up at them as they got to their feet. 

“We gotta go. But… it was nice goin’ with you, Erik.” William gave a last look at Erik’s face and grinned again, shaking his head. “Gosh, I can’t believe it. It’s so cool.”  
“Here.” Henry dug into his bag and brought out a handful of boiled sweets. “That’s yours.”

Any other kid would have demanded more, especially if they had done the lion’s share of the work, but Erik wasn’t any other kid. He closed his fingers over the sweets with silent reverence, as if they were the most sacred pieces of treasure the world could offer.

“Thank you.” He whispered. 

“See you, Erik.” William called, then ran off. Henry waved at him and soon he too disappeared into the darkness.

Erik sat there for a long while, studying the sweets in his right hand and the mask in his left. They said he looked good. They gave him sweets. They made friends with him. 

Mama was wrong.

He couldn’t wait to tell her. In his excitement he decided to just go straight through the front door into the seating room to make his announcement. Mama wouldn’t have to keep him locked away anymore. He could go out. He could be with other boys his age.

He appeared in the doorway of the seating room, grinning ear to ear. Etienne was the first to notice him; when he saw the child’s bare face, all the colour drained from his skin and he weakly shook Madeleine’s arm. She glanced up and jumped to her feet, her pretty face darkening with anger.  
“You horrible little child! Where on earth have you been?!” She screeched. He blinked and held up his handful of sweets.

“I went out. It’s All Hallow’s Eve, Mama. I went with two boys and we got some treats.” He breathed. 

The sweets went flying out of his hand. Next, she slapped him so hard he collapsed, the mask fluttering to the floor beside him. He touched his stinging cheek and tried to look up at her but she rained blow upon blow upon him. 

“How dare you go outside! How dare you disobey me! And how dare you take off the mask!”

He curled himself up and attempted to shield himself but it seemed as if the blows were coming from every direction.

“You disgusting little creature! Those poor boys, having to look upon your face!” She grabbed him by the shoulders and dragged him so he was sitting on the floor, then shook him hard.

“You are a monster, Erik! You are a monster and no other person will ever want to be around you!”

It was too much for him. The boys had been so nice. They gave him sweets. They said he was the best. They liked his face. He just wanted to be friends with other children. He was so tired of being so alone.

He started to cry, reaching for the mask and tying it back into place before crawling to the stairs and back to his dark, cold room.

He just wanted to be friends.


End file.
